Nostalgic For Disaster
by racefh853629
Summary: One night and one crime brings years of running and hiding from the past crashing down around Greg, and the secrets being held within just might kill him.
1. Flashing Lights and Bad Reunions

A/N: As always, I am in no way affiliated with CSI, CBS, the characters, or any known portrayal. Kristine Amie and Brad Johansen are, however, two of my own creations.

* * *

**Flashing Lights and Bad Reunions**

Greg sighed softly as he pulled up to the gaggle of cars parked in the street. He groaned softly, feeling that this had the makings of a long night. He was supposed to have the night off, but had been called in because Grissom, Sara, and Catherine were about to break their respective cases, Warrick was working solo already, and Nick was going to need help processing. He dragged his kit out of the car before walking up to the scene. He slipped under the tape and walked up to where Nick and Brass had their backs to him. "What we got?" he asked softly, causing the two of them to turn sharply to him.

"I thought you were supposed to have the day off," Nick drawled in his familiar Texas accent. Greg shrugged. Nick took in the younger man's tired frame and crumpled hair. "Did Grissom wake you up?"

"Yeah. He told me you guys were spread thin and that you'd need my help, so here I am."

"Sorry, man."

"It happens. So, again, what we got?" Brass cleared his throat.

"Domestic violence case," Brass said. "Victim's name is Kristine Johansen, husband's MIA. She was found in the bedroom after an anonymous person called in the fight, and she was just transported to the hospital. Sofia'll meet you there."

"You go," Nick said. "You're more loveable." Greg didn't comment, and Nick grabbed his shoulder gently. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Greg replied. "I just woke up half an hour ago. It takes a little to wake me up." Nick nodded.

"Process the victim, get it into the lab, then go home."

"You need my help."

"And you need the sleep. Go."

"I'll see you at the lab," Greg said, walking to his car. He jumped in and drove off to the hospital. He walked through the main doors and up to the emergency room information desk.

"Can I help you?" a young lady behind the desk asked.

"Yes, hi, my name is Greg Sanders. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'm looking for Mrs. Kristine Johansen."

"Okay. She's in exam room 3, and will be released tonight, but I have to warn you, Mr. Sanders. She hasn't responded well to the men that have been in there tonight."

"Yeah, well, I'm not just any man," he said with a casual wink. The young woman giggled softly. He walked down the hall to the room and appeared in the doorway. A physician's assistant looked up briefly as she checked the victim's vitals again. "Excuse me, Mrs. Johansen?" Greg began softly. The victim looks at him. "I'm…"

"Greg Sanders, as I live and breathe," the woman said, shaking her head. Greg looked confused for a moment before realization set in.

"Amie." She smiled slightly, amazed that he still remembered her. Sofia appeared in the doorway as the assistant left the room. "I'm, uh, I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab." Sofia furrowed her brow in confusion. She had seen Greg process victims before, so why was this one so difficult? "We, uh, need to get evidence, Detective Curtis and myself, that is." Sofia offered a small smile as Greg gestured to her.

"I know the drill. I'm an ER doctor." Greg nodded before turning to Sofia.

"Can we talk for a minute?" he asked her softly. Sofia looked confused again.

"Uh, okay," she replied, smiling at Amie. "We'll be right back."

"Okay," Amie said. Greg smiled softly at her before gently grabbing Sofia's arm and pulling her out of the room.

"I need you to collect," Greg said hastily outside the room.

"What?" Sofia asked. "Greg, that's your job."

"I know, but I can't do it. I'll explain later." Sofia shook her head as the reason occurred to her.

"You don't need to. I get it. You know her." Greg nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll do it, but you have to bring it to the lab."

"Done." The two of them walked back into the room. "Sorry about that," Greg said warmly.

"It's okay," Amie replied softly.

"So, Detective Curtis is going to be collecting evidence for me and taking your statement. Don't worry, she's really great."

"It's okay, I trust you." Sofia was the only one who noticed that Greg flinched when Amie said that. She began taking pictures, and Greg kept talking, now a little nervous.

"So, uh, I thought your name was Amie," he states softly.

"Amie's a nickname," she tells him. "Shortened from my middle name, Amarilla."

"Interesting middle name. And Kristine is your first name?"

"Yep." Sofia glanced up at Greg in a 'duh' kind of look. He shot her one of his patented 'just trust me' looks. She shrugged and continued collecting evidence.

"What would you rather we call you?"

"You can call me Amie."

"Okay, Amie. Detective Curtis, the beautiful young lady beside you, and myself are going to be asking you a bunch of questions. Answer them in as much detail as possible, and take as much time as you need, okay?" Amie nodded. Sofia glanced over at Greg, whose eyes asked if she wanted him to start. She nodded, and he picked up her notebook. "Can you tell us what happened tonight, Amie?" She took a deep breath.

"I came home and Brad, my husband, was in the bedroom with another woman. I confronted him, and he got mad. His girl disappeared, and he got even more mad because he didn't get the chance to… well… get off, I guess is the way to say it." Greg nodded, and Sofia watched him carefully. He seemed to get mildly uncomfortable, but only to the trained observer. "He then, uh, threw me down, and I… uh, well… that is… I tried to fight back, but he…" She sniffled, tears beginning to fall down her face. Sofia passed her the box of tissues, and Amie thanked her silently. Sofia turned to Greg again, who was still discreetly uncomfortable, but his discomfort had grown. She gave him a sympathetic smile, which he returned with a pathetic one. Sofia frowned softly before dropping her reactions entirely. She leaned over to Greg.

"Do you have an SAE kit with you?" she whispered. He nodded.

"I always carry one in my kit, 'cuz you never know," he whispered back. Sofia nodded, going into Greg's kit and finding the SAE box. Greg smiled warmly again at Amie, who had calmed down.

"I'm sorry," she said softly to the two professionals.

"It's okay," Sofia said softly. Amie nodded, sighing again before continuing.

"He raped me," she whispered almost inaudibly. Greg nodded, shifting his weight to counteract his hidden internal discomfort. Sofia noticed Greg's reaction, but again didn't say anything. "And then he started hitting me." Her volume returned to normal as she said this. "His little something-or-other came back into the room, saw him hitting me, and ran out again. He ran after her, leaving me alone. I don't know how long I was there before the paramedics showed up. I take it you guys don't have him in custody." Sofia shook her head. Amie nodded, and they watched as panic grew inside her. "He's gonna come after me again."

"It'll be okay," Greg said softly. Amie nodded quickly, feeling guilty about having spilled her fear.

"We'll set you up with protection," Sofia assured her. Amie nodded again. "Do you have any ideas where he could be?"

"No," she replied softly.

"Does he have a car?"

"A blue pickup from the '80s." Sofia nodded as Greg wrote it down.

"Do you have a picture of him?"

"There are a few at the house and I think our wedding photo is in my wallet over there." She gestured at her wallet on the table. Sofia picked it up and handed it to Amie, who opened it and handed over the photo. "Here."

"Thanks." She put it in a bag and looked at it. "I love your dress." Amie smiled softly.

"Yeah, I felt like a queen that day." Sofia nodded.

"Amie, we need to do a sexual assault examination on you, so Greg is going to leave the room." Greg nodded, walking out the door. He stood in the hallway, waiting patiently for Sofia to finish as his thoughts ran rampant in his head. He closed his eyes, trying to will them away, before sinking to the ground. He heard Sofia leave the room and wish Amie well before closing the door and handing the evidence over to Greg. "So, what's going on with you?" Sofia asked him softly.

"Nothing," he replied. "I just don't want to compromise anything." Sofia nodded, trying to analyze Greg's reaction. "Stop trying to analyze me." She smiled softly.

"Nothing gets by you."

"That's why I'm a CSI." She chuckled.

"I was one too, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I was a level one then." She nodded. "Thanks for collecting, Sofia."

"You're welcome. I'm going over to the station. And hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?" he said softly, looking at her.

"Take care of yourself. You look like shit." He chuckled.

"Thanks for your kindness. See ya later, Sofia."

"Later, Greg." They parted ways, and Greg went to the lab. He dropped off the evidence to be processed before walking into the layout room where Nick was standing with Grissom, Catherine, and Sara, who had wrapped up their cases.

"You get the evidence?" Nick asked, looking at the younger man.

"It's in trace and DNA," Greg replied. "Nick, I'm taking myself off the case." The four older CSIs looked at him in confusion.

"Why?" Greg sighed softly.

"I know her."


	2. Minor Confessions and Possibilities

A/N: Okay, so here we go with the second chapter. For the disclaimer, see the first chapter. At the end of the last chapter, we find out that Greg knows Kristine, referred to as Amie from here on out by not only Greg but pretty much everyone else. In this chapter, he explains to the team how he knows her, and the team finds out a bit more about the case than they were hoping for.

* * *

**Chapter 1- Minor Confessions and Possibilities**

"You know her?" Nick asked. Greg nodded slowly. "How?" The other three watched intently.

"She's, uh, an old friend of sorts," Greg replied cryptically.

"What do you mean?"

"She, umm, was my, uh, RA in college." Greg found the floor interesting as the others looked at one another.

"You okay?" Greg looked up.

"I'm fine." Nick nodded, analyzing Greg. "Does everyone want to study me tonight? Am I that insatiable?"

"We're concerned," Catherine offered.

"I told you, I'm fine," Greg said quickly. "I'm just tired because I haven't had much of a chance to sleep."

"I'm sorry, Greg, but Nick needed you," Grissom told him.

"It's fine. I understand. I'm just saying that's why I seem off." They all nodded.

"When was the last time you talked to her?" Nick asked. Greg shrugged.

"I don't know," Greg told him honestly. "It's been a while, though."

"Time doesn't matter, Nicky," Grissom says. "You're doing the right thing, Greg." Greg nodded, preparing to slink out the door. "Did you collect?"

"Sofia did. That's okay, right?"

"It's fine, Greg. Sofia just has more work to do, that's all." Greg nodded. "You can go home, Greg. We don't need you. Thanks for coming in."

"Sure." Greg walked out of the room, and Nick followed him out.

"You sure you're okay, man?" Nick asked. Greg looked at Nick with tired eyes.

"No," he replied truthfully. "I need sleep." Nick nodded.

"I know that when you know someone involved, it makes it harder to be around or hear about the case." Greg shrugged, not wanting to talk. "It's even worse when you hide things." Greg shook his head.

"I'm not hiding anything."

"Bullshit, bro. I can see it in your eyes and your demeanor. You're hiding something."

"So? It's not related to the case." Nick arched his eyebrows. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop pushing. I'm not talking."

"That's fine. But you'll find me when you want to talk, right?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Promise me, Greg."

"I promise. But there's nothing to talk about, so don't hold your breath waiting." Nick sighed.

"Whatever, man. Take care of yourself."

"It's like I told Sofia, man. I just need some sleep and I'll be good."

"Then go get some." Greg nodded. "I'll drop by later, okay?"

"Like me saying no is actually going to stop you." Nick chuckled. "Although, if you wake me up, I'll kill you."

"Duly noted. Now get your ass home."

"Is that an order?"

"Go!" Greg smirked as he walked away. Nick shook his head at the departing CSI before turning to go back to the layout room.

* * *

Greg drove back to his apartment, fighting his mind and fatigue. He parked in his spot and smiled at his landlord. "That's the earliest I think you've ever come in," she joked. Greg smiled sweetly.

"I told them I had to rush out to meet a pretty lady," he flirted.

"That's real sweet, sugar, but you're still gonna have to pay rent this month." Greg laughed.

"Thanks, Edna, I love you too." He winked, and she patted him on the shoulder.

"You're a great kid, Greg. I'll see you later."

"Later, Edna." She walked away, and he dragged himself up the stairs to his apartment. He unlocked the door and opened it before walking in. he closed the door and flung himself on the couch, too tired to make it to the bedroom. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.

* * *

"So, what do we know so far?" Grissom asked as he, Sara, Nick, and Catherine were assembled in the layout room. Sofia strode in a moment later.

"Our victim doesn't use her first name," she told them. "She prefers to be called Amie."

"Yeah, what did she say?" Nick said. "We kinda rushed Greg out of here without pumping him for information."

"She says she came home, found the husband screwing around, confronted him, other woman leaves briefly. Husband then rapes the wife, beats her, other woman comes back and sees them, and the husband runs out after the woman. Husband's still at large, but we're trying to track him down. Victim's been released from the hospital and is in protective custody."

"You might want to say ex-husband in reference to him," Brass said as he walked in. "Their divorce will be final in a few days."

"Why would a wife get upset about their husband moving on when they're just about divorced?" Sara asked.

"She never mentioned they were divorcing," Sofia said.

"So, better question, why was she hiding it?" Catherine asked. Nick's pager chimed.

"DNA results are in," he said. The group all went to the DNA lab.

"Your sample matches a cold case from Stanford University about thirteen years ago," Wendy told them. "A series of rapes and assaults, all in the same dorm building." She handed over the sheet.

"I'll call Stanford and see what we can find out from them," Brass said. The group nodded before returning to the layout room. Warrick joined up with them.

"So, what's going on?" he asked.

"Domestic case that's linked to a cold case from Stanford," Catherine told him.

"Damn. How cold?"

"Thirteen years."

"Shit." Warrick looked at Nick, whose mind appeared to be in overdrive. "Smokey, where's the fire?"

"Thirteen years ago, Greg was a student at Stanford," he began. "He pulled himself off this case tonight because the woman who was attacked was his RA while he was in school."

"So?"

"It could mean nothing, but it could mean that Greg knows something." Brass walked back into the room.

"It'll be a while before they can send us the paperwork," he informed them. "They'll have it here by the start of shift tonight, they hope." Nick looked at his watch to realize that shift was over already.

"Damn," he muttered. Grissom turned to them.

"There's nothing more we can do right now," he said.

"I'll call you when the papers are in," Brass added. The group adjourned, but Nick couldn't get over the gnawing feeling that Greg knew a lot more than he was telling them.

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A/N2: Dum dum dum... Review and let me know waht you're thinking!


	3. Bad Dreams and Cold Cases

A/N: For disclaimer, see the first chapter. Thanks for all your reviews thus far! I hope you guys enjoy this. In this chapter, Greg has a nightmare (in italics, as are his thoughts), and bits and pieces of the case begin to fall together.

* * *

**Bad Dreams and Cold Cases**

_Blood. There was so much blood everywhere. The carpet, the beds, the desks, the heater, the windows- all were covered in bright crimson. Greg's breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene around him. He wanted to scream and vomit at the same time, but found himself incapable of doing either. Suddenly he noticed the man in black, who turned and saw him. Deep green eyes set in a black mask pierced through Greg, and he turned to run away. He got out into the hallway before tripping over the backpack he had dropped at the sight of the blood. His face smashed into the bathroom door across the hall, and the man in black easily caught up with him. Greg saw his own reflection in the bloody knife, and he flinched. "No!" he cried as the man in black pounced on him and Greg fought him with everything he had._

Nick found himself at Greg's door after leaving the lab. He heard Greg fighting on the other side of the door, and he felt fear for his friend's life rising in him. He tried the knob, finding the door unlocked. Fearing that someone was attacking Greg, he drew his gun before walking in. He found Greg thrashing on the floor, fighting off an invisible attacker. Nick put his gun away before kneeling beside his friend. "Greg?" he asked, tentatively putting his hand on the young man's shoulder. Panic gripped Greg even tighter, and he curled into a ball before finally jolting awake. He tried hard to calm his breathing, turning toward Nick for comfort. Nick rubbed his shoulder soothingly, and Greg looked at him with fearful eyes. "Must've been one helluva nightmare," he said softly.

"Yeah," Greg choked out as the shaking began. He hadn't had a nightmare about that day in ten years, but seeing Amie again brought back everything. Nick pulled the shaking man against him, trying to calm him down.

"It's okay, man. You're safe." _No, I'm not. That man's still out there._

"Yeah, I know." Greg was trying to calm himself down, but the fact that Nick was hugging him wasn't helping. He wriggled out of Nick's grasp, standing on shaky legs.

"Hey, where you goin'?" Nick's voice was laced with concern, and Greg sighed.

"Water always helps me calm down." _Not to mention Valium does too._ Nick nodded at Greg's explanation and watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. Greg reached into the cupboard to grab a glass before holding it under the sink faucet. He poured a Valium pill from his prescription bottle, sighing as he popped it in his mouth and washed it down. Nick appeared beside him, and Greg continued to drink the water as he looked out the window above the sink.

"You okay?" Nick was worried about Greg when he noticed that Greg was sweating profusely.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Greg lied, staring out the window.

"What was the nightmare about?" Nick asked as he put his hand on Greg's shoulder. Greg inwardly flinched and prayed that Nick didn't notice. His prayers weren't answered as Nick squeezed his shoulder. "Cole Tritt?"

"Yeah." Another lie, but it was better off that way.

"I thought you hadn't had a nightmare about that in months." Greg shrugged.

"They come and go with me."

"Yeah, I know how that goes. I still have nightmares randomly about Nigel." Greg nodded as Nick gave his shoulder another squeeze. "It'll be okay, Greg. You're safe now." Greg nodded, gulping the last of the water. He refilled his glass.

"Can I get you something?" he asked Nick softly.

"I'm good, but thanks," Nick replied. Greg felt himself calming down as he moved away from Nick to the freezer. He dropped a couple of ice cubes into his glass before swirling them a bit.

"Okay, but remember, you're welcome to anything in the kitchen, which is coffee, ice, and water." Nick chuckled, glad to see Greg was returning to normal after the nightmare. "You want food, you're ordering it in."

"Or I'll just go back to my place, where I at least have stuff to make pancakes."

"I eat out a lot. Sue me." Greg left the kitchen and plopped on his couch as Nick investigated his pantry.

"Have you ever had food in here?" Nick asked.

"Yes."

"How long ago?"

"Ha-ha. You're so funny." Nick walked back into the living room.

"Okay, I'm going to go get you some food while you take a shower because man, you are drenched."

"Thanks for telling me, because I never would've noticed," Greg retorted dryly. Nick smiled.

"I'll be back." Greg watched the older man walk out before going into the bathroom. He took a long, lukewarm shower, hoping that along with the water, his memory of that day would wash down the drain.

* * *

Nick's cell phone rang as he was carrying the groceries into Greg's apartment. He managed to fish it out and answer it. "Stokes," he said, trying to balance the phone and the groceries.

"Nick, it's Grissom. The files just came in."

"Okay, I'll be down in a bit." Greg walked into the room, fully dressed and with a towel around his neck. Nick hung up the phone and put the groceries away.

"What's up?" Greg asked.

"I have to head to the lab," Nick told him. "Some files relating to a case came in." Greg nodded. "You want to come with?"

"Uh, sure." Greg felt trapped. If he said no to Nick, he'd be incriminating. If he said yes, he'd know that they would be finding out really fast. Nick noticed the confliction in Greg's eyes.

"You don't have to go, man. I was just askin'."

"Nah, I'll come with."

"Cool. I gotta stop off at home first, though." Greg nodded. "We'll pick something up on the way."

"Oh, so you just got me food I probably won't eat for nothing?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Greg grunted in response. Nothing was going to help him sleep at night at this point. The pair walked out to Nick's car, climbing in and driving off to Nick's apartment.

* * *

"I brought reinforcements," Nick said as he and Greg walked into the break room carrying coffee and breakfast. Catherine eyed them tiredly.

"Do you mean the food or Greg?" she asked.

"The food. Greg's here to keep us entertained." Grissom looked at the both of them as Sara, Sofia, Warrick, and Brass moved toward the food.

"Greg's not involved in the case, Nick," Grissom told him. Greg looked at Grissom before looking at Nick.

"I forgot," Nick said honestly. "I'm sorry, Greg. I forgot the files had to do with Amie's case."

"Eyes, no hands," Greg said. "Think of me as your lighthouse- giving you guidance in the dark."

"You do realize that didn't make much sense," Sara stated.

"You need your coffee." She grunted in response, and Grissom watched Greg. Earlier, the younger man wanted nothing to do with the case, but now he wanted to watch. Was that because he changed his mind or because he had something to protect?

"So, the files are right here," Brass said, getting down to business. Greg jumped up on the counter to sit and eat while the others sat around the table. "All the reports from that hallway are in there."

"The DNA in Amie matched the DNA from these cases," Sofia filled Greg in. "Thirteen years ago, there was a series of rapes and assaults in a dorm building at Stanford. The case went cold about eleven years ago. Campus police sent us the file." Greg nodded. "Also, we found only two sets of DNA on Amie's sheets- hers and the suspect's. She lied about finding him cheating in the bed." Greg quirked an eyebrow.

"Why?" he asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe these files will have an answer."

"Is everything in there?" Catherine asked, swallowing the bite of muffin.

"Should be," Brass replied.

"How do we want to break this up?" Sara asked.

"Sofia, Nick, and Warrick will take the campus judicial," Grissom began. "Catherine and I will take the hospital notes. Sara and Brass'll take the police records." They divided the files accordingly as Greg watched and ate nervously. After perusing for half an hour, Warrick stopped Sofia and Nick.

"What?" Sofia asked him. Warrick shook his head in disbelief.

"The attacks," he said, looking at the reports and the building floor plan, triple-checking his discovery.

"What about them?" Nick asked, growing slightly impatient.

"They were all in the same hallway."

* * *

A/N2: Slowly but surely, Greg's past is coming out, and next chapter puts forth a little more. Please review, let me know what you think!


	4. Grave Realizations

A/N: Yes, I have returned. First, thank you for all your reviews. They keep the muses happy. :) Second, the only people I own in this story (so far) are Amie, Brad, Edna (Greg's landlord), and Greg's roommates (mentioned but not named). I don't own CSI, CBS, the characters, or anything like that. And, finally, in this chapter, a little more of Greg's past is discovered.

* * *

**Grave Realizations**

Greg nearly jumped out of his skin at Warrick's realization. Knowing the time he had left before his secret was revealed was shrinking, he slipped out as the team turned to Warrick. "What?" Catherine asked.

"They were all in the same hallway," Warrick repeated. "Check this out. They all lived on the sixth floor and in the east hall." The other six looked at Warrick's notes on the victim's rooms and the floor plan accordingly.

"Well done, Warrick," Grissom said. Nick was staring at another paper.

"What was Amie's maiden name?" he asked. Brass grabbed another piece of paper that was on the table.

"Ray," he told Nick. A fearful smirk found its way onto Nick's face. "What'd you find?"

"Kristine Ray is listed as the RA for 6 East of the dorm at the time of the attacks."

* * *

Greg had been outside the door of the break room when he heard Nick's revelation. He walked away from the break room, knowing he didn't want to be there when everything else came down. He wound his way to the stairs and climbed up them to the roof. He figured no one would find him up there.

* * *

"Is there a list of all of her residents for that year?" Nick asked, looking around in front of them. Sofia picked it up, her brain clicking as to why Nick wanted to see it. Her eyes scanned the list before stopping on the name she had been hoping wasn't there. She dropped the paper from her eyesight before looking around at the group. The look on her face was all telling for Nick.

"What?" Catherine asked, noticing the look on her face.

"According to the roster," Sofia began before swallowing the lump in her throat. "Amie had a resident that year of our own. One Mr. Gregory Sanders, freshman, in a quadruple room by the looks of things." Sara had been reading a report, but her coffee ended up across the room.

"What'd you find?" Nick asked after her reaction.

"It wasn't enough that Greg was in the hall," Sara said. "His three roommates were murdered."

* * *

Greg brought his knees to his chest, watching intently as the sun set on Las Vegas. He wasn't sure how long he had been up there, but wasn't surprised that no one had found him. Truth be told, he didn't want anyone to find him. By now, they all knew about his disaster of a freshman year. He allowed the tears to fall as he thought back to that day. He knew that whoever killed his roommates was still out there, but as much as he wanted justice for them, he was afraid to speak up. His fears were well justified, and now all of Grave knew about the murders. He continued to stare out at the horizon, shedding tears of mourning for those lost thirteen years ago.

* * *

"Where the hell is he?" Warrick asked.

"He probably ran," Sara replied.

"Why, though?" Catherine asked. "We know he didn't do it. He was somewhere else on campus at the time, getting attacked." She held up the report filed on Greg's behalf.

"He's hiding something."

"What makes you think that?"

"Why else would he run?"

"Maybe he just didn't want to be reminded of the fact that he lost his three roommates one night in college," Nick said. "Maybe he doesn't want to relive that, and by hangin' around here, he's doin' that."

"Do you really believe that?" Warrick asked Nick, who shrugged.

"I don't know. What I do know is that we need to find Greg, because if he's runnin' this bad, I'll bet he never dealt with it all that well in the first place. We need to find him and make sure he's okay." Nick walked out of the room, leaving Warrick, Catherine, and Sara to turn to Grissom, who had been silent throughout their entire conversation.

"What do you think, Gris?" Warrick asked.

"I think Nick's right," Grissom said. "We need to find Greg. He's probably hurt right now, and he may even unknowingly have the key to this case."

* * *

After searching the entire lab, Nick was down to his last place to look- the roof. He grabbed an extra jacket before heading up, knowing that if Greg were there, he would probably be getting cold. Sure enough, he found the younger man perched closer to the edge with his back to the door.

Greg closed his eyes, flinching slightly as he heard someone walk up behind him. He didn't even have to turn around or hear the man speak to know it was Nick. He kept them closed as he heard Nick softly call to him. "Greg?"

"You found me," Greg said, his voice as emotionless as he could manage with tears falling down. Nick, however, had heard the tears in his voice and sighed.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"About what?"

"That night?"

"Which night?"

"Thirteen years ago, Greg. Stanford University."

"Yeah, I was there. There were a lot of nights there."

"But only one where your roommates were murdered." Greg shrugged, wiping away his tears.

"I didn't know anything then, and I know even less now." Nick arched his eyebrows.

"I think you're lyin', Greggo." Greg turned sharply to Nick.

"I think you don't know what you're talking about." His voice was like ice, chilling Nick to the bone. "I wasn't there when it happened, so all I know about it is what you read in the police report. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Greg, I know you're hiding something." Greg rolled his eyes.

"You don't know anything, Nick." Greg got up and walked away, escaping the roof and, consequently, Nick's company. He walked back into the lab, finding Grissom in his office. "Grissom, can we talk?" he asked, startling Grissom from the paperwork in front of him. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Grissom replied. "Come in." Greg walked in, closing the door behind him. He nervously walked over behind the chairs facing the desk. "Have a seat."

"No, that's okay," Greg said, wringing his hands together nervously. Grissom watched him.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I didn't do it."

"Do what?" Grissom was confused.

"Kill my roommates." Grissom was still confused, wondering why Greg said that.

"We know. There was a report to the effect that you were elsewhere on campus." Greg sighed, remembering having to give that report. Having to lie a little to protect himself.

"Yeah, right, I guess I forgot." Grissom watched the young man curiously. Sara was right. Greg was hiding something. He stood up and walked around his desk.

"Something wrong, Greg?" Grissom's voice was gentle, and for a moment Greg considered telling him everything before realizing that would only stand to make things worse.

"No," he lied. He hated lying to his boss, but he had to keep some things private.

"You'll let me know if there is, right?"

"Of course." Greg sighed. He really hated lying to his boss, but it was all he could do right now to keep himself in control. "So, uh, what are we working on tonight?"

"You and Warrick have a carjacking on Canary Road. And Greg?" Greg looked at him. "If it gets to be too much, go home."

"Grissom, I'm fine," Greg reinforced, and Grissom nodded. Greg turned and left his office.

"I hope so," he said as he watched the young CSI depart.

* * *

A/N: Please review. Let me know what you're thinking, feeling, all that good stuff. :)


	5. Carjackings, Meetings, Surprise Visits

A/N: Alrighty... I still don't own anyone or anything you recognize. In case you're confused about anything so far, what has been revealed of Greg's backstory is that as a freshman in Stanford, he lived in a four-person room (which I forgot to mention that I don't know whether or not Stanford really does that) in the east hallway of the sixth floor of the unmentioned dorm. His hallway sustained a series of assaults and rapes, and his roommates were murdered. And now, on with the chapter- with more connections and surprise visits. Enjoy. :)

* * *

**Carjackings, Meetings, and Surprise Visits**

Greg stared at the shattered glass that littered the ground in front of him and Warrick. "Broken window," Greg said.

"But is it the passenger's or the drivers?" Warrick asked, smiling to himself as he planned to mess with Greg a bit.

"Who carjacks from the passenger's side?"

"Someone trying to confuse CSIs." Greg half-laughed at that, bending down to look closer at the glass. He picked up a shard with tweezers to examine it more closely.

"We have what looks like blood," he reported, showing Warrick.

"Test it and bag it," Warrick told him.

"Done and done." Greg ran the blood presence test, which was positive. He put the shard in a bag, thinking. "So this could be our suspect or our victim."

"Not the latter. Victim wasn't in the car when it happened. Came out and it was gone."

"You know, you could've told me that before."

"Easy, Greg. I thought you heard when we were talking earlier." Greg shook his head.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

"It's okay, man." The pair continued to collect evidence before Warrick turned to Greg. "You wanna run it?" Warrick asked the recently promoted CSI level 2. Greg shrugged.

"Am I allowed to do that?

"Do I really care?"

"Fair enough," he said. "Guy walks up, no, probably runs up, maybe being chased."

"How do you know?"

"He broke the window with his fist, most likely. You wouldn't bare-handed break a window if you weren't in a rush." Warrick nodded, smiling at Greg's reasoning. "He hotwires the car- it's an old car, so it's easier- and he takes off. Tire treads suggest he peels out of the lot." Warrick nodded again. "But what I don't get is how the victim didn't hear the car leaving. It had to have squealed the tires."

"The lot isn't exactly near a residential area," Warrick noticed.

"Maybe the victim had put the car here to draw attention to it, trying to sell it," Greg said.

"And the only thing that happened was it got stolen."

"So, now we need to find out who did it."

"Yeah, and why they were in such a hurry."

* * *

After dropping off their evidence in trace and DNA, Warrick and Greg sat in the break room. Greg nursed a cup of coffee, his mind miles away. Noticing the distant look in the young man's eyes, Warrick put his hand on Greg's shoulder. Greg didn't move his gaze. "I'm fine, Warrick," he told him. 

"I wasn't wondering if you were okay," Warrick said. "I was wondering what you were thinking about."

"Nothing."

"Must be something good if you've got that look in your eyes." Greg shook his head.

"It's nothing."

"Look, I'm not going to keep bugging you about it, but if you don't get whatever it is you're safeguarding out and into the open, you're never going to get over it. And, from the looks of things, you need to." Greg shook his head again.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Warrick," Greg said softly.

"You're right, I don't," Warrick replied. "I don't know what you're hiding, but I have a feeling it has to do with Amie and her case." Greg sighed, looking out the window toward the hallway.

"I didn't know she lived in Vegas." Warrick watched Greg closely as he talked. "Not that it mattered. Even if I had known, I still would've tried to avoid her."

"How come?" Warrick squeezed Greg's shoulder softly, hoping his friend would find it to be gentle and comforting.

"She screwed up." Greg dropped his head, looking down at the table. Warrick rubbed his shoulder gently, getting a little insight into Greg's college life, the one thing in his past he kept particularly quiet about.

"How?"

"It's not important." As quickly as he had opened up and started talking, he was closed again. Warrick couldn't help but wonder who he was really talking to- Greg or Sara. Greg's pager went off, and he looked. "Wendy has our results," he told Warrick.

"Let's go," Warrick said. They walked into the DNA lab, and Wendy turned to them.

"You guys might want to clue the others into this," she said. "Your carjacker is the guy who raped Amie."

* * *

"So, we know our rapist jacked a car," Nick said. 

"Car owner said the last time he saw it was two days ago," Warrick told them. "We just talked to him again, and he admitted he dropped it in that lot with a 'for sale' sign on it. He checks on in every couple days, found it missing, doesn't know exactly when, though."

"So, conceivably, our rapist could've run there after attacking Amie."

"No, he had his own car," Sara said. "We didn't find it or the keys at the house." Greg sat on the couch as the rest of the team was around the table in the break room.

"So he had to have ditched the truck somewhere," Catherine said.

"Probably because he knew we were looking for it," Nick said.

"Or because it broke down," Warrick said.

"The guy was in a haste to get a new ride," Greg threw in, causing the team to look at him. "More than likely, he was trying to cover his tracks." Greg was staring at the cup in his hands as he spoke, and the team looked at one another.

"He's right," Grissom said, trying to distract their thoughts from their colleague's obvious problem.

"So we're looking at a guy who rapes, murders, assaults, and carjacks?" Nick asked.

"We don't know that he murdered those guys," Catherine said. "The only connection is the all-black outfit…" Her voice began to fade in Greg's mind.

_Flashback:_

_Blood was everywhere, and Greg felt himself shudder. His slain roommates were lying in various places, all in different degrees of being mangled. When the guy saw Greg, he stopped chopping up Kevin and started to move toward the young freshman. Greg freaked, and turned to run. He tripped, smashing his face into the bathroom door. The man caught up to him before he could stand, and dragged him into the bathroom. "Greg?"_

_End Flashback_

"Greg?" Nick called again, noticing the look of terror on the young man's face. Greg jumped, shaking his head quickly to clear out the memory as he turned to the others. "You okay?"

"Fine," Greg said softly, trying to calm his racing heart.

"You're really pale, Greg," Sara told him softly.

"Call me Casper."

"Greg, maybe you should go home," Catherine said. "You don't look so good."

"We'll call you if we need you," Warrick chimed in. Greg turned to Grissom.

"Greg, come with me," Grissom said. Greg sighed, nodding and following Grissom out of the break room and into Grissom's office. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Greg said softly.

"You're lying."

"It's hard, okay? Unlike you, I have feelings, and the fact that we're reopening the cases of everything in my hallway freshman year and how all of my friends were raped, assaulted, and/or killed really hurts." Greg sighed, sniffling. "It hurts." Grissom gently put his hand on the young man's shoulder, rubbing it softly.

"I have feelings, Greg. I wouldn't keep pulling you aside if I didn't."

"Yes you would. It's your job. You can't have a CSI fall apart in the middle of a case."

"But this isn't your case, and you know that."

"But if I'm affected by this, then it'll effect anything else I touch, or at least that's what you've been preaching since I was in the lab. You can't turn against what you've already taught. Besides, if I screw up, Ecklie's on your ass."

"I can handle Ecklie."

"I didn't say you couldn't. You'd prefer not to, however, so you don't want me to screw up so that you don't have to deal with him." Grissom squeezed Greg's shoulder.

"Tell me something, Greg. Do you know our suspect too?" Greg sighed, shrugging.

"Not really. Brad was a senior my freshman year. He was an RA for an upper classman building and the big brother for my roommate, John, but other than that, no. I guess he married Amie at some point, but I don't ever remember them dating." Grissom nodded.

"Why did you want to make sure that I knew that you didn't kill your roommates?"

"Because I know I was the main suspect. I forgot what had happened and what I was doing at the time." Another lie, but Greg knew that if he didn't keep it up, everything would fall apart.

"You're lying to me, and you're hiding something." Greg closed his eyes, sighing.

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

"I can see it on your face." Greg sighed again, reopening his eyes. Busted. He saw concern and compassion in Grissom's eyes, and decided to level with him a bit.

"I can't talk about it," Greg confessed softly. "I've only tried talking to two people about it- one person fucked that up and the other was my mom."

"It is related to this case though, right?" Grissom asked.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter, though."

"Still does to you." Greg nodded softly, saying nothing.

"I can't talk about it," he repeated.

"Why did you really want me to know that I knew you didn't kill them?" Greg sighed, swallowing hard. His breath became shallow, and Grissom squeezed his shoulder again. "Greg?" Greg shook his head, almost gasping for breath as memories overwhelmed him, memories he had repressed for thirteen years. "Greg, sit," Grissom said, leading the younger man to a chair and making him sit. He saw the sheer panic in his employee's eyes, and he knelt in front of him. "Greg? You okay?" Greg nodded, working on calming himself down after the rush of memories. He felt lightheaded and a little dizzy, but he wasn't about to tell Grissom that. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself down. "What happened?"

"I can't talk about it," Greg said for the third time, his throat hoarse with fear. Grissom stayed kneeling in front of him.

"Look, Greg, I'm placing you on leave of absence, effective immediately." Greg groaned.

"Come on, Grissom. I'm fine."

"You just had a panic attack. You're not fine. You need time away from here and away from work. You're out, Greg."

"How long?"

"We'll re-evaluate after a week." Greg sighed, nodding. "Go home, Greg."

"Yes sir," he droned sadly, walking out the door. Grissom watched the young CSI depart, hating that he had to make him take leave, but knowing that he had no choice.

* * *

Greg walked into his apartment, dropping his keys onto the table near the door. He sank onto the couch, sighing to himself as he looked at the door. He knew he should have locked it behind him right away, but he was too lazy. He cursed his laziness two minutes later when he heard someone opening his door. "Knock knock!" a woman called. "I brought beer!" Greg shook his head. 

"Mom," he said as she walked in.

"I didn't think you'd be here, so I was all ready to break in when I saw your car here."

"Mom, why are you here?"

"Because I wanted to see my little boy."

"Mom."

"Because I was worried, okay? I heard about Amie and everything from your aunt who heard from her friend who heard from her daughter who saw it on the news. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're home early," she finally noticed. He chuckled.

"Nothing gets by you, does it?"

"Like mother, like son. Why are you here?"

"Grissom made me take a leave because of the case."

"Are you sure you're okay, honey?" She disappeared into the kitchen, putting the beer in the fridge. "Oh, my God, you actually have food in here. Who are you and what have you done with my son?" Greg laughed.

"Nick bought it." He walked into the kitchen, and she turned to him.

"Nick did?" Her eyebrows arched, and Greg shook his head.

"Nothing like that. He was being a pain in my ass."

"So he bought you groceries?"

"Mom, stop."

"I want you to be happy, Gregory, no matter who you're with and what gender they are."

"Mom," Greg groaned. He looked at the beer his mother brought. "Smirnoff?"

"It's good," she countered.

"It's girly beer, Mom."

"Well, you've never been great at handling your liquor, sweetie."

"One time of breaking into the cabinet when I was fourteen does not constitute me not being able to hold liquor."

"What about college?"

"How do you know what I did in college?"

"You were quite the master of the drunk dial. I was glad you were having fun, but kept praying you were safe."

"I always was."

"Not that day." Greg sighed, and Mary noticed the pain in her son's eyes. "That still bothers you, huh?" Greg handed her the latest edition of the paper, which made mention of the connection to the Stanford case. "Oh, God."

"That's why Grissom made me take leave." She nodded.

"Then maybe it's a good thing I'm here. Please tell me you have a guest room."

"Of course, because I never know when my neurotic, obsessive, over-protective, possessive mother will show up with girly beer and demand to stay." Jan glared at her son. "I'm not complaining. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Greggy," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "And because I love you so much, I'm going to fix up your house. You're gonna hurt yourself if you leave all that stuff all over the place. Sometimes I wonder how you're still alive."

"I'm young, Mom. I'm resilient."

"I know. Must keep the lovers happy, huh?" He shook his head.

"Not a conversation I want to be having with my mom."

"Fine. You enjoy the beer and I'll take care of your house and make you a good breakfast… or dinner, whatever your schedule is." He chuckled.

"Okay." He moved into the living room, sitting on the couch and turning on the TV as 'Hurricane Mary' began cleaning his house.

* * *

A/N: I know it's a little long, but there really wasn't a way to shorten it. Coming up in the next chapter, Greg's secrets are finally revealed.


	6. Does Truth Mean Freedom or Death?

A/N: The problem with naming characters 3 different names in 3 different places is that somewhere along the way, you forget to change one. So, as pointed out, I forgot to change one last chapter. Greg's mom is named Mary, and I apologize for any confusion. (As you may now know, I don't use a beta). I still don't own the stuff you recognize, but I do own: Amie, Brad, Edna, Kevin, Evan, and John (the last three are mentioned in this chapter. Also in this chapter: What happened to Greg. Major violence warning, as well as implied slash (sorry). Enjoy. :)

* * *

**The Truth Could Set You Free... Or Get You Killed**

The team, sans Greg and Grissom, was sitting in the break room as the pair had been in Grissom's office. "So, what do you think he knows?" Sara asked, looking at the others.

"I don't know," Nick replied. "He ain't talkin'."

"He said that Amie screwed up, but didn't say how," Warrick said.

"You know more than I do." Nick sighed.

"He's hiding something," Sara said again.

"Something related to our case," Catherine said. Grissom walked in without Greg.

"Where's Greggo?" Nick asked.

"He went home," Grissom said.

"You made him take leave?"

"I have no choice, Nick. You see how he's doing right now."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"He knows something related to the case," Sara said.

"He's not sure it is," Grissom told her.

"We need to find out what he knows," Warrick said.

"I know. Nick, go over to Greg's house. Find out what he knows."

"Why?" Nick asked. "It's not like he's talking to me."

"You're good at making people tell you things they wouldn't tell anyone else," Grissom countered. "Work your magic on him."

"He's taken lessons from Sara on this."

"Hey," Sara said, offended.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Nick began, "but when it comes to your problems, you're silent." She shrugged. "And that's how Greg's been about this."

"Whatever," she playfully scoffed. Nick sighed.

"I can't do anything right right now."

"Nick, I was kidding."

"I'm not. Greg won't talk to me, I offend you…"

"Nick," Catherine said. He half-grinned.

"Had ya'll thinkin' I was depressed, huh?" he asked. They all groaned.

"Greg's bad enough, dear. We don't need you too."

"I'll be fine."

"Nick, go talk to Greg," Grissom urged. Nick stood.

"Am I on the clock or off?" he asked.

"On."

"Okay." Nick walked out, and everyone looked around.

"Brass, take a look at Greg's police report," Grissom said. "I'm not sure it's entirely accurate."

"Got it," Brass said.

"Warrick, I want you to get in touch with Michael Maverick. He was the witness of Greg's attack."

"Can't," Warrick said. "Michael was killed three years ago. We tried earlier. He was in a car accident, secondary vehicle unregistered, secondary driver unknown." Something clicked in Grissom's head.

"Look over all of the crimes," Grissom said. "Any witnesses, anybody named in the reports, look them up and see if they too are dead." Sofia walked in.

"No need," Sofia said. "I spoke with Amie again. She said that Brad perpetrated the attacks in her hall, but she didn't find that out until a few months ago. He has an office in their basement where he keeps records of almost everyone he attacked or who saw him attack. She said that when she found out, she filed for divorce. He admitted that he murdered the three roommates and that he was looking for the fourth to 'tie up loose ends,' but didn't explain what loose ends. She wouldn't tell him the fourth's name, so he tortured her. He's killed every one of them, and Greg might be next."

* * *

Greg was sitting on the couch when Nick walked in. "What, does everyone just walk in?" he grumbled softly.

"Well, I didn't know whether or not you'd be awake, and you once told me that if I woke you up, you'd kill me," Nick replied.

"Didn't know you actually cared to remember shit I say."

"Of course I do, Greg. You're my friend. Which is why I'm here. I wanna know what happened, what's bothering you. I know that you know that Amie and Brad were the only two to touch those sheets, and I think you know why. I think you know what she's covering for."

"I really don't, Nick. I haven't talked to her in thirteen years. What makes you think I know what motivated her husband?"

"You've been hiding something since the beginning. I wanna know what it is." Greg sighed, walking into the kitchen.

"Want a beer?"

"I'm still on the clock."

"Right." Greg grabbed the six-pack his mother brought and two cans of soda before walking back into the living room.

"Smirnoff?"

"Shut up, my mom bought it."

"You're mom's here?"

"Currently in my bedroom."

"No way."

"She swears that I'm more at risk in this apartment then out there on the streets." Nick laughed. "She's just over protective." Greg put the bottles on the table and put the cans in front of Nick.

"So, back to the reason I'm here." Greg chuckled.

"Why do you think I busted out the Smirnoff?" Nick cracked the can open as Greg opened the first bottle. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Before we begin, I need your promise on something."

"What's that?" Nick asked.

"I'm going to tell you something I've only tried telling two people in my entire life. My mom, and Amie."

"So, she knows?" Greg half-nodded. "What?"

"I said tried, not actually. We were interrupted, like you're doing to me now."

"Sorry. Continue."

"Like I said, I've only tried telling this story twice. So, no freaking."

"Would I do that?"

"Depends on the story." Greg shrugged before continuing with, "Not the point. I trust you, Nick, and I trust that when I finish, you're going to tell the team. Ask all the questions you need to fill gaps, but wait until after I finish, okay?"

"Of course, man. You have my word on all of that." Greg nodded.

"Good." He swallowed the lump in his throat and sighed. "Okay. Here we go. I was a freshman in college, Stanford. Amie was my RA, we lived on the sixth floor, which was a bitch on move in, let me tell you." Nick chuckled. "Elevators and all, man, it still sucked. Dad and I were makin' a bunch of trips while Mom took pictures. But that's not the point. I was in a quad room with Kevin, John, and Evan. We were all from different areas, completely different in almost every way, but we still got along pretty well. We just didn't hang out outside the room. Kevin was the one who was active around campus, in about six different clubs, hired to be an RA for his sophomore year but never got there. John was a frat boy, don't ask me which frat because I forgot. Evan was a hockey player, paid me pretty well to get his blades sharpened for him." Greg took a drink from the bottle and sighed.

"The first attack was a girl down the opposite end of the hall," he continued, his voice noticeably sad. "She had been alone in her room with the door open when he came in, raped her, and beat her. The guy was dressed in all black, black ski mask, never took off his clothes, just unzipped, whipped, done. She was so torn up, Nick. Do you know what it's like to watch one of your friends try to deal with being raped by some stranger who just walked right in?" Nick shook his head slowly. Greg closed his eyes briefly, sighing and taking a long drink. "I suppose it doesn't matter now. She died a year later. Committed suicide."

"I'm sorry, Greg," Nick said, putting his hand on Greg's shoulder.

"Doesn't matter now." Greg stared at his bottle, blinking slowly and breathing deeply. Nick gave Greg's shoulder a gentle squeeze, and heard Greg's mom walk into the kitchen. Greg did too, but didn't react, lost in the past he tried to protect for so long. "The attacks seemed random at first," Greg said finally after a moment. Nick turned back to his young friend, keeping his hand on Greg's shoulder. "One day it was down the hall, the next it was right next to me, then across from Amie. None of us realized that it was that the attacker was looking for any open door, regardless of how many people were in there. He'd attack everyone and leave. No one ever died, though. That is, until that night." Greg finished the first bottle before cracking open the second and taking a long drink. Nick took a drink from his forgotten soda.

"I was at a study session for sociology," Greg continued softly. "I went back to my room, and my backpack was kind of heavy, so when I was trying to open the door, I had dropped it. I thought it was a little strange that the door was closed, because Kevin had been complaining about the heat, so he left the door open. I walked inside, and the first thing I saw was the blood. There was just so much of it, and it was everywhere. The beds, the desks, the chairs, the windows, the carpet- everywhere. Then I saw John. He was on top of his dresser, throat and wrists slashed, nearly castrated. Evan was on my desk, same condition as John. Kevin was…" Greg's voice cracked as it trailed off, and he stopped for a minute.

"It's okay," Nick reassured. Greg swallowed hard before taking a gulp from his bottle. Nick rubbed Greg's shoulder softly.

"Kevin was, uh, being dismembered by a man in black," Greg said finally. "I was, frozen I guess. It was like I couldn't move, I couldn't speak. You've seen me freeze up before, when that guy… I lied when I said I hadn't seen blood like that before. It reminded me of that night, but I couldn't tell you that because I just… it's not that I didn't trust you or anything."

"It's okay. I understand, man." Greg nodded, drinking again. Nick watched as his usually happy-go-lucky friend drank, thinking about how Greg had managed to keep this buried for so long and still be such a happy person.

"The guy saw me," Greg began again. Nick nodded softly. "He stopped cutting up Kevin and walked toward me. I freaked and tried to run, but I tripped over my backpack and hit my head on the bathroom door. He grabbed me, and I thought I screamed, but found out later that no one had heard a thing. The guy hit me over the head, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in the woods somewhere with the guy in black standing over me. I was freaking out, and he had me tied up. He said he wanted me awake for this, that he wanted me to suffer, because I had walked in and interrupted him. He said he was going to hurt me so bad that even though I might survive, I'd be too screwed up to say anything, because he was going to hurt me so badly. And if I ever breathed a word of what he did to me, he'd find me and kill me, because he'd know." Nick nodded, getting the feeling that he didn't want to know where this was going. Greg saw the look in Nick's eyes, and frowned. "Maybe I should stop. You look uncomfortable."

"No, man, I'm fine. It's okay. I'm just worried about what's going to come next." Greg nodded, draining the rest of the second bottle.

"Your worries are well justified," Greg told him as he opened the third bottle. "He made a comment I didn't understand at that moment about how everything was the same. I didn't ask questions, I just stayed there. He dropped my pants, and…" Greg's voice cracked, and Nick kept watching him. "…I got really confused. I wasn't sure what he was doing. And then he…" Greg swallowed hard, closing his eyes. He paused long enough to gain the strength to continue. "He raped me." Greg bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his tears at bay. He had only said that phrase once before, because he never got to that part with Amie. Nick felt a rock grow in the pit of his stomach at Greg's admission. Noticing Greg on the verge of tears, he grabbed his friend in a gentle hug, which Greg accepted. The younger man sighed softly, taking a deep breath. Nick rubbed him on the back softly, and Greg squeezed his eyes shut.

They stayed that way for a moment- Greg holding back tears and Nick comforting him. Greg finally took a few shaky breaths before speaking again. "I, uh, I'm not done," he said, moving out of Nick's grasp to face him better. Nick nodded, looking in Greg's eye again. Greg took a deep, steadier breath before continuing. "After, he, uh, beat me up. He was doin' that when some kid started walking nearby. The guy freaked, ran away, and the kid came over. He called EMS and stayed with me until they got there, I think. I passed out before they did. That's why there's a report saying I was attacked somewhere else at the time. It started in the dorm, though." Greg swallowed hard again.

"I found out at the hospital that the guy's name was Michael Maverick," Greg continued. "He said he found me, and I thanked him. He didn't see the guy run off, and I couldn't really tell the police much about what happened. I was told that my roommates were murdered, and I pretended I was shocked, like I didn't know and hadn't been there. They didn't find anything that said I was there."

"What about your backpack?" Nick asked softly.

"It was found with me. I hadn't stepped in the blood or anything, so I left no footprints. So they believed it was a separate incident, and I didn't give them any indication that it wasn't, because I knew the guy was still on campus. I was too afraid. Afterward, I started having trouble sleeping, wasn't eating, was just generally fucked up and didn't know what to do. I was ready to end it, man. I went to Amie for help, but when I tried to tell her what was going on, she got a phone call. She apologized and left the room."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I think she was freaked, especially since I was telling her that I was suicidal."

"Still, man, she shouldn't have left."

"That part I understood, though. What I didn't understand is why all of the other RAs as well as half the residents of the building found out that I was suicidal, when the only person I had told was Amie. I hated her for that for so long, and I guess I still do a bit. I took my problems elsewhere. My mom helped me out a lot, she was the only one that I would let help. The school covered their ass by sending me to counseling at least twice, because after something as traumatic as having your three roommates murdered, they wanted to make sure I was okay. I wasn't, but for other reasons. They said I was severely depressed, which I wasn't, but they prescribed Nardil for me anyway." Nick looked confused. "Nardil is an antidepressant, class monoamine oxidase inhibitor." Nick nodded. "The depression went away, but the panic attacks, which had started a little bit after I got into therapy, didn't. I was taken off Nardil, and for a while, it was just nothing but talk. I wasn't depressed to begin with, which they told me afterwards."

"Psychiatric medicine is difficult, you know."

"Yeah, I'm well aware. When the panic attacks were really bad, they prescribed Valium, low dose, as needed. It worked, and I'm still on it now." Nick nodded. "I hadn't thought about that night, dreamt about it, anything in ten years. Then I saw Amie in the hospital that night… When you walked in earlier, when I was having the nightmare… it was about that night, not Cole and the attack. I'm sorry I lied to you then, all along."

"It's okay, Greg. There's a lot in my past that not everyone knows." Greg nodded, sighing.

"I thought I had moved on, that everything was okay. Yet I keep having small little reminders, and it sets me back a bit. Not much, but enough. Sometimes I was surprised you guys didn't pick up on something sooner, because there were some days that I couldn't function well, like the time I was still in the lab and you guys had that paraglider case."

"With me and Warrick?" Greg nodded. "I thought something was up that day, but I wasn't going to push it."

"Anniversary, first victim's suicide. There were a few suicides, a lot of random 'accidental' deaths. I think there are only a few of us left from the hallway that year- me, Amie, and the girl next door, Kara." Nick nodded slowly.

"Brad raped Amie, and his DNA was linked to the case," Nick said, putting the pieces together.

"He was an RA in another building, hence how he was getting in after hours." Greg was trying to help, and Nick nibbled his lip pensively.

"Where's Kara now?"

"No idea." Greg's mom poked her head into the living room.

"Are you boys hungry?" she asked. "I made breakfast." Nick smiled, looking at Greg.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your mom?" he asked.

"She's a married woman, Nick," Greg teased. Nick playfully smacked him. They grabbed some food and thanked Mary. She joined them at the table, sitting beside Greg. "You have any questions? Any gaps?" Greg asked, looking at Nick.

"What was Brad's connection to your hall?" Nick asked, taking a bite of his eggs.

"I don't know. I think him and Amie were friends. I know he was John's big brother." Nick nodded.

"What was his major? Do you remember?"

"Pre-med. Him and Amie had the same major. They were always studying together, so I guess maybe both of them became doctors. When I saw the guy cutting up Kevin, I figured he had to know his anatomy." Nick nodded.

"Any idea why he would do that?" Greg shook his head.

"No idea. We found out we were the only hall being attacked like that, though, so we figured it had to have something to do with us. Either we had pissed someone off, or whatever. We never really thought it could've been something Amie did, but that idea's starting to look really good."

"Yeah, it is. Was she ever part of the attacks?"

"No. And, come to think of it, nothing ever happened when she was hanging out with Brad."

"Brad's starting to look better and better."

"Now, all we gotta do is find him before he finds me."

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A/N: There are 2 chapters left to this story, so let me know what you think.


	7. Don't Leave Your Friends Alone

A/N: Second to last chapter! I still only own Amie, Brad, Edna, Evan, John, and Kevin. Everyone else belongs to CSI, CBS, and all of them.

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**Don't Leave Your Friends Alone**

Nick went back to the lab after talking with Greg for a while. "He didn't see the guy's face," he told Grissom as he caught up to him in the hall.

"He told you everything?" Grissom asked.

"He didn't hold anything back." They walked into the layout room, where the rest of the team was assembled.

"What'd Greg say?" Catherine asked. Nick sighed.

"He walked in on the guy cuttin' up the kid that night," Nick replied. "He tried to run, but he tripped over his backpack and fell. The guy hit him over the head, and the next thing he knew, he was wakin' up in the woods. The guy raped him and beat him, then the witness came over and the guy ran off." Nick watched the reactions of everyone in the room as he finished telling Greg's story. Sara looked angry, but that wasn't much of a shock. Catherine looked sad, Warrick looked uncomfortable, Grissom (of course) had no reaction, Sofia looked confused, and Brass looked like a combination of everyone.

"This guy could be after him, and you left him alone?" Sara asked after a while, still angry.

"His mom's with him. She flew out here for some reason."

"I'm going over there," Brass said. "Someone should be with him besides his mother." The group nodded collectively, and Grissom turned to Nick.

"Go with him," he said. Nick nodded, walking out the door and climbing into the car with Brass.

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In fact, Greg was alone. His mother had run out for something or other, Greg hadn't been paying attention. He sat on his couch as his door opened for the third or fourth time that day, Greg had lost count already. Brad walked in. "Well hello, Mr. Sanders," he said. Greg's head snapped up, looking at the same eyes that had been under the mask thirteen years ago. Greg moved to stand, and Brad pointed a gun at him. "I wouldn't move if I were you, or if you even like your life." Greg put his hands up in defeat and stayed on the couch. "Good boy. You were the little punk that tried to run away. You caught me, and you ran like the little pussy that you are. Now you're gonna die, like I should've killed you that night. Don't know why I didn't. Doesn't matter now, boy, 'cause you're gonna die." He whipped Greg across the face with the gun. "Gonna torture you first, though." He threw Greg across the room, forcing him face-first into the wall. Greg groaned, feeling the blood seeping out his nostrils. He was going to be feeling that for a while.

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Nick and Brass pulled up to Greg's apartment, and Edna smiled at Nick. "Weren't you just here, sugar?" she asked. He smiled sweetly.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Yeah, you were visiting Greg. Some other guy just went up looking for him, another sweet man." Brass and Nick looked at each other.

"Thanks, ma'am. We'll be seeing you." She nodded as the two men walked away, rushing up to Greg's apartment. Brass pulled out his gun, and Nick followed suit. He walked in to find a man standing over Greg, kicking him in the ribs. They heard a sickening crack as the guy continued his assault.

"Freeze!" Brass said, holding his gun on the guy. The guy jumped slightly. "You're under arrest."

"I don't think so," the guy said, picking Greg up and using him as a human shield as he spun toward Brass. Greg looked worse for the wear, blood oozing out of various cuts on his face. Nick, unnoticed by the suspect, crept around the perimeter, walking to where he could possibly get a good shot. Greg noticed Nick moving, but didn't react.

"You okay, Greg?"

"Peachy, Brass," Greg retorted. "I'm gonna make a commemorative painting for this moment." The guy hit Greg over the head.

"Shut up," he said.

"Okay, Brad, will do." Brad held the gun under Greg's chin.

"I'll kill you."

"And then you have no bargaining chip. You need me alive, Brad." Brass wasn't sure if Greg was trying to help or trying to get himself killed. Nick had maneuvered himself into position, poised and ready to shoot Brad on Brass's signal.

"Let him go, Brad," Brass said.

"No," Brad said. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to march your ass out of here, and I'm going to finish what I started thirteen years ago."

"I don't think so."

"No? Maybe I'll just shoot you first, then kill him. It's not like you have anyone with you. No one but the old hag saw me come in here."

"You're wrong on one thing."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Brad didn't wait for an answer before shooting at Brass and missing. Nick shot Brad in the side, angled away from Greg.

"He's not alone," Nick said. Brad dropped to the ground, letting go of Greg. Greg sat on his floor. "You okay, Greggo?"

"Do I look okay?" Greg groaned as Brass radioed for police and ambulance. Nick knelt beside him, reaching to put his hand on Greg's shoulder. "Don't touch me. I'm evidence." Nick nodded, looking at Brass. Brass looked at Brad, who wasn't moving from the floor. He looked back on Nick and nodded. Nick dropped his head toward his back, sighing. "He dead?" Greg asked Brass weakly.

"I don't think so," came the soft reply from the captain. Greg groaned softly in response, closing his eyes as he waited for the paramedics to arrive.

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A/N: Short chapter, I know. Review, please!


	8. It's Never Over Until It's Over

A/N: The final chapter! I still don't own anyone.

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**It's Never Over Until It's Over**

Greg opened his eyes in the hospital, feeling not much of anything. "Sleeping Beauty has awoken," Sara said softly. Greg groaned.

"It's not a fairy tale, Sara," he said. "I was okay to begin with."

"They drugged you up pretty good," Warrick said. Greg smiled.

"Trust me, I feel it."

"How are you?" Catherine asked.

"Not bad, considering," Greg replied. "When can I go home?"

"Doctor says soon," Sofia told him.

"Fantastic."

"Glad you're okay, Greg," Grissom said.

"Thanks, boss."

"Yeah, you had us worried, Sanders," Brass said.

"Well, that's my job," Greg joked. He glanced at Nick, who stayed silent in the corner, not even looking at Greg.

"We'll be back to get you in a bit, okay?" Greg nodded, and everyone except Nick left the room.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Greg said to the older man. Nick turned slowly to face Greg.

"I wanted you to hear it from me that Brad Johansen went into surgery upon arrival," Nick said softly. "He never made it off the operating table." Greg looked down, silent.

"He was so intent on killing me, and he's the one that died," he said after a moment, his body shaking slowly and almost invisibly.

"Yeah, I know. He, uh, was fatally shot."

"By your gun." Nick nodded. "You killed him to save myself and Brass. You're not in trouble…are you?"

"No."

"Should I thank you?" Nick smiled softly.

"No. I know you'd do the same for me if the situation was ever reversed." Greg nodded, and Nick looked at the floor.

"Then why are you so glum?"

"I'm not. I'm just worried about you." Greg sighed, and Nick walked over, sitting down on the bed next to Greg.

"I'm okay." Nick arched his eyebrows.

"You sure?" Greg nodded. Nick watched him in scrutiny, and then Greg shook his head. Nick picked up his friend's hand, squeezing it softly. "He's dead, Greg."

"I know."

"That means it's done. It's over."

"It's not over, Nick. It's only just begun."

**El Fin.**

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A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the story. Please let me know if that's the case. And, taking a moment to plug my other stories... Feel free to check out "Angels" (Saracentric, eventual GSR) and keep an eye out for my next story, "Hate Me" (Gregcentric, no known pairings as of yet). Again, thank you all for reading and reviewing all along.


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